Hrm... you know, I think I agree with that. I'll probably rewrite that part as I did it in a hurry without really thinking it all out.
Greater Siam
- Thread starter ChaosNDiscord
- Start date
With no Belgium I wonder if Britain will be able to keep morale up in the face of this nightmare conflict? After all their motive then is they must aid France and Russia, two nations they have historical and recent enmity with.
Also Britain was fixated with Russia not getting the straits. Maybe Britain is only aligned with France and not Russia; not supplying Russia?
Also Britain was fixated with Russia not getting the straits. Maybe Britain is only aligned with France and not Russia; not supplying Russia?
At least in the beginning of this conflict she's not a Russian ally, she's only a co-belligerent. They may work it out, but, maybe not. It depends a lot on what happens too in Russia. She's in bad shape at the moment.
Royal Military Academy, Woolwich – May 7th, 1908
“Did you hear the news Praj[1]?” Asked one of the two tall English boys, brown hair tossed by the light breeze of another overcast morning.
“I haven’t seen a paper yet Tom. What is going on?” The shorter rather young looking man asked, his hair was dark and his rather obvious Asian features stood out at the Academy.
“The Hun, they’ve gone and done it this time, declared war on Russia, them and the Austrians. Er… your highness,” said the other man, a tall and thin young man with short blonde hair and a nose that seemed just a little too big.
“Please James, just call me Praj, I’m not your king,” replied Prince Prajadhipok.
“What about the French, and the Italians?”
“France declared war this morning. It’s not in this paper, but James heard from his older brother. Italy so far hasn’t said anything that I’ve seen.”
“What abo-“ Prajadhipok was about to ask only to be cut off by another boy running up.
“War! It was just announced, we’re going to march with the French!” yelled the newcomer.
“Italy?”
“Nothing yet, but who cares about a bunch of pasta eaters?”
“Well, it could really change things if they jump in.”
“Do you think they’ll call up the academy?”
“Hardly. My brother’s unit is going though. Part of an expeditionary force, seems like someone already had this all figured out.”
“Well should be over right quick enough though. Jump across the old channel, give the Kaiser a sock on the nose and be home in time for tea, eh?”
“You’re bloody well right. Someone has to show those cabbage eaters a thing or two.”
Royal Military Academy, Woolwich – August 19th, 1908
“Bugger, according to this report the the French have stalled again outside Saarebourg. Sounds like they took pretty bad losses too,” stated Tom.
“What about the Russian side of things?” James asked in reply.
“Not too much there in this paper. Sounds like between the Germans and Austrians they’re pushing them back, but the Balkans are a damned mess. It sounds like the Austrians are fighting the Serbs who are fighting the Turks too, and now the Bulgarians, and the Greeks have jumped in to fight both the Turks and Bulgarians too. There’s also reports of revolts in Bosnia, Albanians taking up arms. The Turks are having problems in their backyard even with the Russian’s having pulled out. The Armenians and Kurds are still giving everyone hell, and we’ve got troops pushing up into Asia Minor.”
“The ones who had moved in from Egypt?”
“That’s the ones.”
“Bloody mess that is.”
“What is?” asked Prince Prajadhipok, having just joined the other two.
“The whole Ottoman side of things. Sounds like everyone is fighting everyone over there.”
“I had heard that. What a mess,” the Prince agreed.
“By the way, did you hear? They’ve called up the senior class.”
“I hear about an hour ago. You must be excited, you’ve wanted to go for a while.”
“Can’t let my brother have all the glory now can I? But what will you do?” Prajhadipok replied.
“I’ll be going too.”
“But, you can’t can you? I mean, you’re Siamese, they’re neutral.”
“No, not anymore. I just got the telegram this morning. My father has declared war on Germany and Austria.”
“That’s great news! Any word on where you’ll be posted?”
“Yes, I’m told I’m being commissioned in the Royal Horse Artillery.”
“Good outfit that. I’m surprised your father is letting you serve in a British uniform.”
“My brother argued the same apparently; that I should be home or serving with my people. But, we have no troops here in Europe yet, and my father wants me to have experience.” The prince lowered his voice and looked around quickly, then asked , “Do you think… do you think the men will follow me? I’m not... well… like you two.”
“You mean will a bunch of uneducated ruffians follow an oriental? They bloody well better. All they should see is the lieutenant’s rank and will respect it… or I’ll give them the flat end of my sabre right on their ass.” The three young men laughed and headed for lunch.
[1] Despite sharing the same name, this is not quite the same Prajhadipok as in OTL, this one was born three years earlier, though like ours went to Eaton and then Woolwich.
“Did you hear the news Praj[1]?” Asked one of the two tall English boys, brown hair tossed by the light breeze of another overcast morning.
“I haven’t seen a paper yet Tom. What is going on?” The shorter rather young looking man asked, his hair was dark and his rather obvious Asian features stood out at the Academy.
“The Hun, they’ve gone and done it this time, declared war on Russia, them and the Austrians. Er… your highness,” said the other man, a tall and thin young man with short blonde hair and a nose that seemed just a little too big.
“Please James, just call me Praj, I’m not your king,” replied Prince Prajadhipok.
“What about the French, and the Italians?”
“France declared war this morning. It’s not in this paper, but James heard from his older brother. Italy so far hasn’t said anything that I’ve seen.”
“What abo-“ Prajadhipok was about to ask only to be cut off by another boy running up.
“War! It was just announced, we’re going to march with the French!” yelled the newcomer.
“Italy?”
“Nothing yet, but who cares about a bunch of pasta eaters?”
“Well, it could really change things if they jump in.”
“Do you think they’ll call up the academy?”
“Hardly. My brother’s unit is going though. Part of an expeditionary force, seems like someone already had this all figured out.”
“Well should be over right quick enough though. Jump across the old channel, give the Kaiser a sock on the nose and be home in time for tea, eh?”
“You’re bloody well right. Someone has to show those cabbage eaters a thing or two.”
Royal Military Academy, Woolwich – August 19th, 1908
“Bugger, according to this report the the French have stalled again outside Saarebourg. Sounds like they took pretty bad losses too,” stated Tom.
“What about the Russian side of things?” James asked in reply.
“Not too much there in this paper. Sounds like between the Germans and Austrians they’re pushing them back, but the Balkans are a damned mess. It sounds like the Austrians are fighting the Serbs who are fighting the Turks too, and now the Bulgarians, and the Greeks have jumped in to fight both the Turks and Bulgarians too. There’s also reports of revolts in Bosnia, Albanians taking up arms. The Turks are having problems in their backyard even with the Russian’s having pulled out. The Armenians and Kurds are still giving everyone hell, and we’ve got troops pushing up into Asia Minor.”
“The ones who had moved in from Egypt?”
“That’s the ones.”
“Bloody mess that is.”
“What is?” asked Prince Prajadhipok, having just joined the other two.
“The whole Ottoman side of things. Sounds like everyone is fighting everyone over there.”
“I had heard that. What a mess,” the Prince agreed.
“By the way, did you hear? They’ve called up the senior class.”
“I hear about an hour ago. You must be excited, you’ve wanted to go for a while.”
“Can’t let my brother have all the glory now can I? But what will you do?” Prajhadipok replied.
“I’ll be going too.”
“But, you can’t can you? I mean, you’re Siamese, they’re neutral.”
“No, not anymore. I just got the telegram this morning. My father has declared war on Germany and Austria.”
“That’s great news! Any word on where you’ll be posted?”
“Yes, I’m told I’m being commissioned in the Royal Horse Artillery.”
“Good outfit that. I’m surprised your father is letting you serve in a British uniform.”
“My brother argued the same apparently; that I should be home or serving with my people. But, we have no troops here in Europe yet, and my father wants me to have experience.” The prince lowered his voice and looked around quickly, then asked , “Do you think… do you think the men will follow me? I’m not... well… like you two.”
“You mean will a bunch of uneducated ruffians follow an oriental? They bloody well better. All they should see is the lieutenant’s rank and will respect it… or I’ll give them the flat end of my sabre right on their ass.” The three young men laughed and headed for lunch.
[1] Despite sharing the same name, this is not quite the same Prajhadipok as in OTL, this one was born three years earlier, though like ours went to Eaton and then Woolwich.
I admit, I have a preference for limited butterflies or ones that take a larger time to really develop. I don't necessarily hold to the theory that billy-joe sneezing into his left sleeve in 1898 Texas instead of his right means that 40 some odd years later Cary Grant is actually the pseudonym of a serial killer instead of a famous actor, but that's just my personal preference.
Western Front, Near Stenay, October 11th, 1908
“Move! Move! Get those guns unhitched!” Came the shouts from Captain Halvesham.
The horses pulling the guns were struggling through ground that had been turned to slop after two days of near continual rain. Nearby German artillery continued to pound the ground sending shrapnel and muck flying everywhere. “Down!” came a scream as another shell whistled its way to an explosion dampened in the mud.
As the men rose they returned to their work. Prince Prajadipok struggled to get his six guns situated, the chaos around them made it all the harder to do their work. Screams of dying men and horses, came from everywhere around. Ahead machine guns continued their deathly chatter.
For just a moment everything seemed to stop then the roar of dozens of guns sounded, followed by the intense whistle as shells joined the rain that splashed down on them.
“Incoming!” another soldier yelled, and like a group of pigs who had just discovered a favorite new hole, the soldiers dropped into the slime. Shells seemed to explode everywhere around him, and for just a moment the Prince was sure he'd made a complete mess in his pants. Then, the world went upside down and dark...
When he came to he was staring into the mud covered face of Sergeant McCarver, an Irishman with a thick accent he sometimes could barely comprehend. To the man's credit though, he didn't care what color the Prince's skin was, just the number of bars on his uniform. He'd already disciplined one private who seemed to take offense at taking orders from an 'Oriental'.
“Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you all right?” He asked, extending a hand.
Prajadhipok could barely comprehend the man, he looked about and saw bodies in pieces, two gund toppled over, one smoking and a horse screaming in pain as its two remaining limbs thrashed about. He blinked once, twice then looked at the Sergeant.
“Sir! The damn Krauts are counterattacking. The infantry is falling back. Sir, we have to pull back.”
The prince blinked at him again, then looked over the Irishman's shoulder. Why were there British troops running in the wrong direction? He raised a hand to his head and felt something wet. He pulled it back and looked at his fingers, red with blood. Was it his? He looked back up at the man.
“Krauts?”
“Bleedin Germans sir! They're going to f***ing overrun us!” the man screamed.
“No... no. The horses are scattered. We can't leave the guns. Turn them.”
“What? Sir you're-”
“They'll follow the line of the creek. It gives them the only real cover. Turn the guns there. Load with whatever we have left. Mass one shot.” Prajadhipok turned and looked at the few guns remaining. “Where is the captain? And Lieutenant Andrews?”
“Dead.” The man replied. “You lot! Turn them guns, we're going to stop 'em here!”
“Get two men to halt the retreating men. Form a rally point here.”
“Sir!”
Western Front, Field Medical Hospital, Near Stenay, October 13th, 1908
“Damn fine work your highness.” Colonel Lewis[1] told him.
“Please, call me Lieutenant sir.”
“Nonsense, we can't be calling you that when you're a captain.”
“I- sir- I- th- thank you!” Prajadhipok stammered, stunned.
“Think nothing of it Captain. It is nothing more than you and your men deserve. Brave, brave work out there. It is a shame that we'll be losing your services.”
“What? Sir? Why?”
“It seems the gentlemen in downing street don't want a member of a foreign royal family dying. Apparently they've sent a note to your family that you're alive and being transferred away from the fighting.”
“I'm no more important than those other men. This is... this is... bollocks!”
“No captain, that's politics.”
[1]If anyone is able to find a list of the actual commanders of the RHA at this time I'll change the name, and be much obliged.
“Move! Move! Get those guns unhitched!” Came the shouts from Captain Halvesham.
The horses pulling the guns were struggling through ground that had been turned to slop after two days of near continual rain. Nearby German artillery continued to pound the ground sending shrapnel and muck flying everywhere. “Down!” came a scream as another shell whistled its way to an explosion dampened in the mud.
As the men rose they returned to their work. Prince Prajadipok struggled to get his six guns situated, the chaos around them made it all the harder to do their work. Screams of dying men and horses, came from everywhere around. Ahead machine guns continued their deathly chatter.
For just a moment everything seemed to stop then the roar of dozens of guns sounded, followed by the intense whistle as shells joined the rain that splashed down on them.
“Incoming!” another soldier yelled, and like a group of pigs who had just discovered a favorite new hole, the soldiers dropped into the slime. Shells seemed to explode everywhere around him, and for just a moment the Prince was sure he'd made a complete mess in his pants. Then, the world went upside down and dark...
When he came to he was staring into the mud covered face of Sergeant McCarver, an Irishman with a thick accent he sometimes could barely comprehend. To the man's credit though, he didn't care what color the Prince's skin was, just the number of bars on his uniform. He'd already disciplined one private who seemed to take offense at taking orders from an 'Oriental'.
“Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you all right?” He asked, extending a hand.
Prajadhipok could barely comprehend the man, he looked about and saw bodies in pieces, two gund toppled over, one smoking and a horse screaming in pain as its two remaining limbs thrashed about. He blinked once, twice then looked at the Sergeant.
“Sir! The damn Krauts are counterattacking. The infantry is falling back. Sir, we have to pull back.”
The prince blinked at him again, then looked over the Irishman's shoulder. Why were there British troops running in the wrong direction? He raised a hand to his head and felt something wet. He pulled it back and looked at his fingers, red with blood. Was it his? He looked back up at the man.
“Krauts?”
“Bleedin Germans sir! They're going to f***ing overrun us!” the man screamed.
“No... no. The horses are scattered. We can't leave the guns. Turn them.”
“What? Sir you're-”
“They'll follow the line of the creek. It gives them the only real cover. Turn the guns there. Load with whatever we have left. Mass one shot.” Prajadhipok turned and looked at the few guns remaining. “Where is the captain? And Lieutenant Andrews?”
“Dead.” The man replied. “You lot! Turn them guns, we're going to stop 'em here!”
“Get two men to halt the retreating men. Form a rally point here.”
“Sir!”
Western Front, Field Medical Hospital, Near Stenay, October 13th, 1908
“Damn fine work your highness.” Colonel Lewis[1] told him.
“Please, call me Lieutenant sir.”
“Nonsense, we can't be calling you that when you're a captain.”
“I- sir- I- th- thank you!” Prajadhipok stammered, stunned.
“Think nothing of it Captain. It is nothing more than you and your men deserve. Brave, brave work out there. It is a shame that we'll be losing your services.”
“What? Sir? Why?”
“It seems the gentlemen in downing street don't want a member of a foreign royal family dying. Apparently they've sent a note to your family that you're alive and being transferred away from the fighting.”
“I'm no more important than those other men. This is... this is... bollocks!”
“No captain, that's politics.”
[1]If anyone is able to find a list of the actual commanders of the RHA at this time I'll change the name, and be much obliged.
Good update. Re: your footnote:
The Royal Horse Artillery, like the Royal Artillery more generally, is built around batteries.
The Battery Commander role has varied between Captain and Major, and I'm not sure which it was in the RHA in WW1; seems likely that Praj has just stepped up to being a battery commander, however.
This means the higher commander, Lewis, he's talking to is the Commanding Officer of the Regiment (or in this time period for RHA, technically, Brigade), and a Lieutenant Colonel. I am sure there will be sufficiently comprehensive histories to tell us who the Brigade Commanders were in October 1908, but it's a low enough rank I would say feel free to make someone up.
The Royal Horse Artillery, like the Royal Artillery more generally, is built around batteries.
The Battery Commander role has varied between Captain and Major, and I'm not sure which it was in the RHA in WW1; seems likely that Praj has just stepped up to being a battery commander, however.
This means the higher commander, Lewis, he's talking to is the Commanding Officer of the Regiment (or in this time period for RHA, technically, Brigade), and a Lieutenant Colonel. I am sure there will be sufficiently comprehensive histories to tell us who the Brigade Commanders were in October 1908, but it's a low enough rank I would say feel free to make someone up.
Thanks, one site I found (which was pretty generic and of dubious quality) said batteries were generally commanded by lieutenants and were generally 4-8 guns, and so on. I wasn't sure it was right, but I couldn't really find anything better so I just went with it. And yep, the Colonel is his brigade commander. Or should I say, was his commander, as we'll find out in the next update.
Small anecdote... when I worked with royalty in the Navy we abbreviated 'Your Highness' to HRH.
In your example it makes sense that a Colonel from the RHA would be more formal, but it is something to consider.
December 26th, 1908
Headlines on both sides of the western front are covered with variations of “Christmas Truce Ends, Bloody Fighting Continues!”
Paris, France, December 28th, 1908
“…and the most interesting part of the day so far was routing fifteen thousand new boots to second corps.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, your hi-, sorry, Praj.” His companion corrected when he caught the look on the prince’s face.
“I suppose compared to frostbite, it isn’t so bad, but I should be out there with the men, my men; not sipping coffee in Paris while they’re facing down the Germans!” The prince groused.
“Well, it’s not like this isn’t important work. An army lives off of its belly. Logistics is the lifeblood of any good military organization. Oh sure, your tacticians get all the glory in the books, but the ones who keep their armies fed and going, well, they’re the unsung heroes.”
Prajahdipok looked rather dubious at that assertation, but shrugged in his too big coat. “You may be right, but I’d rather be at the front.”
“You’re a Prince. You can’t just be riding a horse at the front of an army like the days of yore. Like it or not, you’re important. Think about it, you’re what, second, third in line for the throne? What would it do if you fell in combat when you’re needed at home?”
“Okay, okay!” Praj said, raising his hands in surrender. “If you’re right, and I’m not saying you are, what good can I do here?”
“Listen, learn, and build some relationships with the people here. You can make important friends, and some of the things you can learn here may be useful to you.”
“Not that I have much choice in the matter.”
“That’s the spirit.”
March 3rd, 1909
Jean Jules Brun Steps Down!
Commander in Chief of the French Army today announced his decision to step down. Though citing health reasons and age as the major factors in the decision, it is more likely the stalemate in Western Europe is the primary reason behind the move. He is succeeded by Auguste Dubail.
Auguste Dubail, Hero of France?
June 8th, 1909
With appalling Russian losses and the army of the Russian Empire in full retreat, German forces have redeployed to the West, leaving the mopping up to about 15% of total German forces, and relying largely on Austria to finish the job. Unaware of the German plans, the French army unleashed a front wide assault on the German positions that pushed in several miles only to be hurled back by powerful counterattacks. The cost in blood is horrendous and the both sides become even more vicious with local commanders not allowing temporary truces to retrieve the wounded, many of whom would die in no man’s land, their cries echoing in the ears of those on both sides.
Finally on June 8th, the German assault would spring forward, issuing an ultimatum to Belgium, troops would pour into that nation which heroically fought to resist the overwhelming numbers of German troops. British, Belgian, and French troops would rush to meet the large flanking maneuver and managed to slow it, aided by the number of rivers across which the adders had to make their way. Fortunately for the Allies, the long delay before the Germans made their move allowed for a large strategic reserve to be formed, and these forces marched north to meet the German threat. Though historians would assume the German army had intended to sweep around and envelop Paris with this move, in actuality the original aims were merely to turn the French flank and force their army to retreat or face a decisive battle where it could be decisively defeated.
The Battle of Mons would prove to be a major point in this early stage of the war. Here, combined forces of the allies would manage to halt the German offensive and force them to dig in. Both armies would then move North West attempting to outflank one another in the “Race to the Channel” which finally ended after a long string of attacks and counterattacks, near De Haan; though the allies had stemmed the advance, they were unable to push the German forces back.
Headlines on both sides of the western front are covered with variations of “Christmas Truce Ends, Bloody Fighting Continues!”
Paris, France, December 28th, 1908
“…and the most interesting part of the day so far was routing fifteen thousand new boots to second corps.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, your hi-, sorry, Praj.” His companion corrected when he caught the look on the prince’s face.
“I suppose compared to frostbite, it isn’t so bad, but I should be out there with the men, my men; not sipping coffee in Paris while they’re facing down the Germans!” The prince groused.
“Well, it’s not like this isn’t important work. An army lives off of its belly. Logistics is the lifeblood of any good military organization. Oh sure, your tacticians get all the glory in the books, but the ones who keep their armies fed and going, well, they’re the unsung heroes.”
Prajahdipok looked rather dubious at that assertation, but shrugged in his too big coat. “You may be right, but I’d rather be at the front.”
“You’re a Prince. You can’t just be riding a horse at the front of an army like the days of yore. Like it or not, you’re important. Think about it, you’re what, second, third in line for the throne? What would it do if you fell in combat when you’re needed at home?”
“Okay, okay!” Praj said, raising his hands in surrender. “If you’re right, and I’m not saying you are, what good can I do here?”
“Listen, learn, and build some relationships with the people here. You can make important friends, and some of the things you can learn here may be useful to you.”
“Not that I have much choice in the matter.”
“That’s the spirit.”
March 3rd, 1909
Jean Jules Brun Steps Down!
Commander in Chief of the French Army today announced his decision to step down. Though citing health reasons and age as the major factors in the decision, it is more likely the stalemate in Western Europe is the primary reason behind the move. He is succeeded by Auguste Dubail.
Auguste Dubail, Hero of France?
June 8th, 1909
With appalling Russian losses and the army of the Russian Empire in full retreat, German forces have redeployed to the West, leaving the mopping up to about 15% of total German forces, and relying largely on Austria to finish the job. Unaware of the German plans, the French army unleashed a front wide assault on the German positions that pushed in several miles only to be hurled back by powerful counterattacks. The cost in blood is horrendous and the both sides become even more vicious with local commanders not allowing temporary truces to retrieve the wounded, many of whom would die in no man’s land, their cries echoing in the ears of those on both sides.
Finally on June 8th, the German assault would spring forward, issuing an ultimatum to Belgium, troops would pour into that nation which heroically fought to resist the overwhelming numbers of German troops. British, Belgian, and French troops would rush to meet the large flanking maneuver and managed to slow it, aided by the number of rivers across which the adders had to make their way. Fortunately for the Allies, the long delay before the Germans made their move allowed for a large strategic reserve to be formed, and these forces marched north to meet the German threat. Though historians would assume the German army had intended to sweep around and envelop Paris with this move, in actuality the original aims were merely to turn the French flank and force their army to retreat or face a decisive battle where it could be decisively defeated.
The Battle of Mons would prove to be a major point in this early stage of the war. Here, combined forces of the allies would manage to halt the German offensive and force them to dig in. Both armies would then move North West attempting to outflank one another in the “Race to the Channel” which finally ended after a long string of attacks and counterattacks, near De Haan; though the allies had stemmed the advance, they were unable to push the German forces back.
A little question about the earlier war - has the Haber process been invented/discovered yet?
*checks* discovered 1909. Industrially applied in 1913. So, with no Haber process, where are Germany and the Central Powers getting their nitrates for explosives from?
"A major consumer of Chilean saltpeter, Germany saltpeter imports totaled 350,000 tonnes in 1900. Twelve years later, it imported 900,000 tonnes." (from la Wiki).
That means in 1909, very approximately, they'll need 750,000 tonnes of saltpetre imports just to maintain peacetime usage, in fertiliser and explosives production. I have no idea where that's going to come from, but I can't help but feel that in the Kaiserreich all available supplies are going to be put into explosives, and the people are going to go hungry...but will all available supplies suffice to keep the munitions factories going? Or are the German guns going to fall silent some time in the Spring?...
*checks* discovered 1909. Industrially applied in 1913. So, with no Haber process, where are Germany and the Central Powers getting their nitrates for explosives from?
"A major consumer of Chilean saltpeter, Germany saltpeter imports totaled 350,000 tonnes in 1900. Twelve years later, it imported 900,000 tonnes." (from la Wiki).
That means in 1909, very approximately, they'll need 750,000 tonnes of saltpetre imports just to maintain peacetime usage, in fertiliser and explosives production. I have no idea where that's going to come from, but I can't help but feel that in the Kaiserreich all available supplies are going to be put into explosives, and the people are going to go hungry...but will all available supplies suffice to keep the munitions factories going? Or are the German guns going to fall silent some time in the Spring?...
In all honesty, that is a question I can not answer. I don't know enough about those things to answer them intelligently, therefore all I can say is "butterflies". 
In all honesty, that is a question I can not answer. I don't know enough about those things to answer them intelligently, therefore all I can say is "butterflies".
Italy can be the mean to break the blockade...at least partially. She can commerce with the CP with more liberty than others neutral as the Entente don't really want to add another front both in land and sea. Sure she is not totally free, but things like food and other 'civilian' product in certain quantity can be sent with the Entente looking grumbling on the other side.
July 1909
In the Balkans the situation was growing more chaotic by the day. The Ottomans had found themselves in a war with both Entente and forces allied with the Dual Alliance (Bulgaria which had been supported by Austro-Hungary). Bulgaria and the ottomans reached a peace agreement fairly quickly with the intercession of German mediators. Bulgaria quickly turned on Serbia and soon found themselves also at war with Greece. Romania smartly continued to remain neutral though she found herself largely cut off from the world market as the allied nations imposed a blockade. Serbian forces attacked from two sides were overrun and many were forced to surrender, several thousand however fled to Greek lines where they reformed new units to continue the fight. There they would be joined by troops shipped in from India.
Behind the lines of the central powers, various partisan groups began to attack supplies and vulnerable installations, leading to brutal reprisals from occupying forces. Thousands of refugees were forced from their homes only to find there was nowhere to go. Many made a perilous journey to Romania until that nation closed its borders. There the refugees were held in internment camps and were for the most part treated humanely, however the blockade ensured that conditions would continually deteriorate. In the occupied areas, accusations of genocide would become fairly commonplace as soldiers brutally held down the populace.
In late July, the Italian government finally moved. Under pressure from the western allies and given assurances of territorial adjustments if she aided them, and continued opposition if she did not, Italy joined the war on the side of the allied powers. The Italian entrance to the war gave a new boon of life to Russia. With Austria having to redeploy its troops from the east to cover their southwestern front, the Russians earned a reprieve from the pressure they had been under.
Also in late July, Vietnamese troops arrived in France, though trained for combat, they would be used primarily for labor purposes and kept from the front lines. Also, troops from another Asian nation arrived in numbers for the first time; by the first of August, there would be a little over 20,000 Siamese troops in France, forming a reserve corps under overall British command.
“Sir,” Prince Prajadhipok said, coming to attention as his commanding office entered.
“At ease your highness. Now, what can I do for you?” he asked the young prince.
“Well sir, I regret to inform you that I must resign my commission in the British Army.”
“What? Nonsense. In a time of war? We need every sold-“
“No no sir,” the prince interrupted. “You misunderstand. I have no intention of leaving the war. I have been placed in direct command of the Siamese Expeditionary Force. Effective immediately I now hold the rank of major general in the Siamese army. While my older brother has been given command of all Siamese forces, he is also my father’s successor and cannot be deployed to Europe.”
“Well, you’re rather young for such an assignment, but they’re your troops. I wish you the best of luck your highness.”
“Thank you very much colonel. I have learned quite a bit being a part of your operation, rest assured, they are lessons I have taken to heart. Also, I will not be alone; my uncle is to be my second in command. He commanded a division during our war with France.”
“Very good, sir. Congratulations and godspeed.” The Colonel spoke, watching the young prince turn and leave. Siamese doctors were one thing, but combat troops? The Germans would cut through them like a spoon through pudding. He hoped his superiors knew what in the hell they were doing.
In the Balkans the situation was growing more chaotic by the day. The Ottomans had found themselves in a war with both Entente and forces allied with the Dual Alliance (Bulgaria which had been supported by Austro-Hungary). Bulgaria and the ottomans reached a peace agreement fairly quickly with the intercession of German mediators. Bulgaria quickly turned on Serbia and soon found themselves also at war with Greece. Romania smartly continued to remain neutral though she found herself largely cut off from the world market as the allied nations imposed a blockade. Serbian forces attacked from two sides were overrun and many were forced to surrender, several thousand however fled to Greek lines where they reformed new units to continue the fight. There they would be joined by troops shipped in from India.
Behind the lines of the central powers, various partisan groups began to attack supplies and vulnerable installations, leading to brutal reprisals from occupying forces. Thousands of refugees were forced from their homes only to find there was nowhere to go. Many made a perilous journey to Romania until that nation closed its borders. There the refugees were held in internment camps and were for the most part treated humanely, however the blockade ensured that conditions would continually deteriorate. In the occupied areas, accusations of genocide would become fairly commonplace as soldiers brutally held down the populace.
In late July, the Italian government finally moved. Under pressure from the western allies and given assurances of territorial adjustments if she aided them, and continued opposition if she did not, Italy joined the war on the side of the allied powers. The Italian entrance to the war gave a new boon of life to Russia. With Austria having to redeploy its troops from the east to cover their southwestern front, the Russians earned a reprieve from the pressure they had been under.
Also in late July, Vietnamese troops arrived in France, though trained for combat, they would be used primarily for labor purposes and kept from the front lines. Also, troops from another Asian nation arrived in numbers for the first time; by the first of August, there would be a little over 20,000 Siamese troops in France, forming a reserve corps under overall British command.
“Sir,” Prince Prajadhipok said, coming to attention as his commanding office entered.
“At ease your highness. Now, what can I do for you?” he asked the young prince.
“Well sir, I regret to inform you that I must resign my commission in the British Army.”
“What? Nonsense. In a time of war? We need every sold-“
“No no sir,” the prince interrupted. “You misunderstand. I have no intention of leaving the war. I have been placed in direct command of the Siamese Expeditionary Force. Effective immediately I now hold the rank of major general in the Siamese army. While my older brother has been given command of all Siamese forces, he is also my father’s successor and cannot be deployed to Europe.”
“Well, you’re rather young for such an assignment, but they’re your troops. I wish you the best of luck your highness.”
“Thank you very much colonel. I have learned quite a bit being a part of your operation, rest assured, they are lessons I have taken to heart. Also, I will not be alone; my uncle is to be my second in command. He commanded a division during our war with France.”
“Very good, sir. Congratulations and godspeed.” The Colonel spoke, watching the young prince turn and leave. Siamese doctors were one thing, but combat troops? The Germans would cut through them like a spoon through pudding. He hoped his superiors knew what in the hell they were doing.
What about the USA?
When the war started, the United States had no interest in getting involved in a European war, and by 1909, that attitude hadn't changed. Domestically, Taft's administration was a departure from the more boisterous and belligerent Roosevelt administration. Taft was more of a quiet thinking man who preferred to work quietly with congress to make bargains.
After successfully lowering tariff rates, which did much to endear him to progressive elements of the Republican party, Taft next pledged to keep America out of the war, despite calls for the United States to intervene. The biggest problem was the division in American society. Strong German-American groups in the United States helped this cause by publishing propaganda pushing to keep the United States neutral, and occasionally condemning the British for their 'illegal' blockade.
Early in the war, Taft had prohibited American lenders from financing any of the belligerents of the war. French efforts however forced Taft to rescind that decision, arguing that if they could buy American goods, they could take American loans. By mid 1909, this position had changed again. British ships intercepting American vessels in their blockade of Germany caused sympathetic politicians, to loudly condemn the British in Congress. Other anti-militarism groups such as the League of Peace campaigned for an end to loans to both sides, arguing that without American money, the war would be forced to end. Finally, backed by a strong campaign demanding America not be drawn into the war, a group of pacific congressmen were able to force through a bill prohibiting loans and sales of war-goods to both sides of the conflict. Passing with a slim majority and over threats of a filibuster in the Senate, Taft signed the bill into law in late July of 1909. Many in the financial and the armaments industries pushed hard to defeat the bill, but failed, though it would cost Taft much politically. The President however, felt that peace was worth the political price he had to pay to preserve it.
The British Blockade
The blockade was marginally effective at first, much of the goods that had been blockaded were funneled in through neutral Italy, Belgium, or Netherlands. However the British began to tighten the noose, cutting off both Belgium and the Netherlands from all but essential goods, forcing rationing and protests from those neutral governments. Upon Italy's entry, the loose grip became more of a stranglehold on the central powers, though German agents in Scandinavia were still able to ship goods from Norway and Sweden past the blockade and into Germany. Others too braved the blockade to smuggle goods into the nation, the rewards for success being enough to tempt a fair number to bring various goods into Germany.
The Eastern Front
The east bogged down when Germany and then Austria diverted troops to the west to try and blast the French and then to counter the Italians respectively. This allowed Russia a chance to reorganize its shattered armies. These units were poorly trained and even more poorly led and the reforms that needed to be made after the lessons of the Russo-Japanese conflict were only half carried out. Though the Russian forces were large, they simply could not match the firepower of the German armies. Against the Austrians, they had better success, but even there the gains were costly, causing much resentment amongst the men at the ineptitude of their leaders which they felt was responsible for the horrendous losses.
Things finally came to a head in August of 1909. Exhausted Russian troops refused an order to attack prepared German positions, resulting in the execution of five men. The attack then went ahead and was repulsed with heavy losses under a withering barrage of German artillery fire. The men, angry at their commanders turned on them, murdering officers. Along the line, the revolt began to spread as peasant troops rose up against their aristocratic leaders. In a sign of how detached the Russian military leadership was from reality one General had taken up residence in a noble home where he dined on elaborate meals daily while his troops were on ¾ rations due to problems bringing supplies to the front. Some units simply surrendered en masse to the German forces, while others disintegrated, sections of the line being held by far too few troops. Others, took up their arms and marched against their former masters. In St. Petersburg, riots began to break out, which the Tsar ordered broken up. Military commanders called in a unit encamped near the capital to help quell the uprising. This unit had returned from the front recently. The troops were tired, hungry, weary of fighting and in no mood to start shooting unarmed people. When the orders came in some obeyed, some refused, other joined the protesters. By week's end the Tsar had fled the city, the ships in harbor had joined the revolt and supporters of the government were rounded up. The lucky were imprisoned or expelled from the city, the unfortunate were given mock trials and executed; things in Russia were going from bad to worse.
When the war started, the United States had no interest in getting involved in a European war, and by 1909, that attitude hadn't changed. Domestically, Taft's administration was a departure from the more boisterous and belligerent Roosevelt administration. Taft was more of a quiet thinking man who preferred to work quietly with congress to make bargains.
After successfully lowering tariff rates, which did much to endear him to progressive elements of the Republican party, Taft next pledged to keep America out of the war, despite calls for the United States to intervene. The biggest problem was the division in American society. Strong German-American groups in the United States helped this cause by publishing propaganda pushing to keep the United States neutral, and occasionally condemning the British for their 'illegal' blockade.
Early in the war, Taft had prohibited American lenders from financing any of the belligerents of the war. French efforts however forced Taft to rescind that decision, arguing that if they could buy American goods, they could take American loans. By mid 1909, this position had changed again. British ships intercepting American vessels in their blockade of Germany caused sympathetic politicians, to loudly condemn the British in Congress. Other anti-militarism groups such as the League of Peace campaigned for an end to loans to both sides, arguing that without American money, the war would be forced to end. Finally, backed by a strong campaign demanding America not be drawn into the war, a group of pacific congressmen were able to force through a bill prohibiting loans and sales of war-goods to both sides of the conflict. Passing with a slim majority and over threats of a filibuster in the Senate, Taft signed the bill into law in late July of 1909. Many in the financial and the armaments industries pushed hard to defeat the bill, but failed, though it would cost Taft much politically. The President however, felt that peace was worth the political price he had to pay to preserve it.
The British Blockade
The blockade was marginally effective at first, much of the goods that had been blockaded were funneled in through neutral Italy, Belgium, or Netherlands. However the British began to tighten the noose, cutting off both Belgium and the Netherlands from all but essential goods, forcing rationing and protests from those neutral governments. Upon Italy's entry, the loose grip became more of a stranglehold on the central powers, though German agents in Scandinavia were still able to ship goods from Norway and Sweden past the blockade and into Germany. Others too braved the blockade to smuggle goods into the nation, the rewards for success being enough to tempt a fair number to bring various goods into Germany.
The Eastern Front
The east bogged down when Germany and then Austria diverted troops to the west to try and blast the French and then to counter the Italians respectively. This allowed Russia a chance to reorganize its shattered armies. These units were poorly trained and even more poorly led and the reforms that needed to be made after the lessons of the Russo-Japanese conflict were only half carried out. Though the Russian forces were large, they simply could not match the firepower of the German armies. Against the Austrians, they had better success, but even there the gains were costly, causing much resentment amongst the men at the ineptitude of their leaders which they felt was responsible for the horrendous losses.
Things finally came to a head in August of 1909. Exhausted Russian troops refused an order to attack prepared German positions, resulting in the execution of five men. The attack then went ahead and was repulsed with heavy losses under a withering barrage of German artillery fire. The men, angry at their commanders turned on them, murdering officers. Along the line, the revolt began to spread as peasant troops rose up against their aristocratic leaders. In a sign of how detached the Russian military leadership was from reality one General had taken up residence in a noble home where he dined on elaborate meals daily while his troops were on ¾ rations due to problems bringing supplies to the front. Some units simply surrendered en masse to the German forces, while others disintegrated, sections of the line being held by far too few troops. Others, took up their arms and marched against their former masters. In St. Petersburg, riots began to break out, which the Tsar ordered broken up. Military commanders called in a unit encamped near the capital to help quell the uprising. This unit had returned from the front recently. The troops were tired, hungry, weary of fighting and in no mood to start shooting unarmed people. When the orders came in some obeyed, some refused, other joined the protesters. By week's end the Tsar had fled the city, the ships in harbor had joined the revolt and supporters of the government were rounded up. The lucky were imprisoned or expelled from the city, the unfortunate were given mock trials and executed; things in Russia were going from bad to worse.
Mons, Belgium September 1st 1909
In the distance the whistling of shells and the booming of distant guns dominated the area. A few of the local commanders had come to this forward observation post to see for themselves the latest effort. Their commanders had ordered a general push, and it was felt that the Germans at Mons were vulnerable. In order to maintain the element of surprise, there was to be no general artillery bombardment to soften up the defenses ahead of the advance, despite the protests of some of the division commanders.
Prince, now General Prajadhipok of the Siamese Expeditionary Force was present as well. Though his corps was in reserve, currently engaged in what had been quietly dubbed ‘fools work’ of digging entrenchments miles behind the current lines. To the Prince’s mind it gave his men things to do, and should worst come to worst, however unlikely, at least they’d be prepared.
He watched, impatiently for the appointed hour of the attack, softly tapping his foot in the dirt of the bunker. Finally whistles rang out and the brave British boys clambered over the tops of their trenches in the hundreds.
Machine guns from the German lines began to open up, the exploding of shells increased as the Germans responded to the attack. They were not caught by surprise at all, and the poor enlisted men paid the price. The Prince watched in disgust as the first wave was cut to pieces, having only made it as far as the enemy wire. He could see a second wave being gathered and turned away.
“What’s the matter sir?” His aide asked in their native language.
“These attacks, they’re pointless. They’re just throwing away men against those guns.” He said, taking off his cap and rubbing his temple. In the distance, the whistle signaling the next attack blew and he sighed heavily.
“Let’s go, I have seen enough of this.”
SEF HQ, An Hour Later
“Sir! You had a phone call while en route. It seems the German’s stopped our attack in Mons cold-“
“I saw.”
“And they’re counterattacking through Montignies,” the young officer stumbled over the name of the town. “The French are falling back sir.”
“Damn. If they do, the British may have to pull back also, we can’t allow them to breakthrough… Let me see a map.” The Prince quickly took one from his aide and unrolled it, checking the distances. “Ring up the Field Marshal.”
The Prince studied the maps further as the minutes ticked, growing more and more impatient with every report of the Germans moving further between the British and French armies. “Sir! The Field Marshal sir.”
Prajhdipok pick up the field phone. “Sir I can have my corps moving in fifteen minutes to cut off the Germans. My lead units could contact them in less than an hour.”
He listened with an impatient look on his face as the Field Marshal spoke.
“But sir my troops-“ he started only to be cut off. “I must protest sir, I-“
He scowled heavily, then sighed. “Yes sir, I understand sir." Reluctantly he hung up the phone, then angrily flung it across the room. “Idiot!” We the closest reserve to the break, and what do they do? They’re bringing in the divisions from the Third Army instead of using us… stupid!”
He glanced around at his officers who watched him rage in silence. “Go out to the men, tell them to be ready. By the time the Third Army arrives, the Germans may reach us. I want us redeployed and pivoted to face their likely angle of advance. Get everyone ready.”
In the distance the whistling of shells and the booming of distant guns dominated the area. A few of the local commanders had come to this forward observation post to see for themselves the latest effort. Their commanders had ordered a general push, and it was felt that the Germans at Mons were vulnerable. In order to maintain the element of surprise, there was to be no general artillery bombardment to soften up the defenses ahead of the advance, despite the protests of some of the division commanders.
Prince, now General Prajadhipok of the Siamese Expeditionary Force was present as well. Though his corps was in reserve, currently engaged in what had been quietly dubbed ‘fools work’ of digging entrenchments miles behind the current lines. To the Prince’s mind it gave his men things to do, and should worst come to worst, however unlikely, at least they’d be prepared.
He watched, impatiently for the appointed hour of the attack, softly tapping his foot in the dirt of the bunker. Finally whistles rang out and the brave British boys clambered over the tops of their trenches in the hundreds.
Machine guns from the German lines began to open up, the exploding of shells increased as the Germans responded to the attack. They were not caught by surprise at all, and the poor enlisted men paid the price. The Prince watched in disgust as the first wave was cut to pieces, having only made it as far as the enemy wire. He could see a second wave being gathered and turned away.
“What’s the matter sir?” His aide asked in their native language.
“These attacks, they’re pointless. They’re just throwing away men against those guns.” He said, taking off his cap and rubbing his temple. In the distance, the whistle signaling the next attack blew and he sighed heavily.
“Let’s go, I have seen enough of this.”
SEF HQ, An Hour Later
“Sir! You had a phone call while en route. It seems the German’s stopped our attack in Mons cold-“
“I saw.”
“And they’re counterattacking through Montignies,” the young officer stumbled over the name of the town. “The French are falling back sir.”
“Damn. If they do, the British may have to pull back also, we can’t allow them to breakthrough… Let me see a map.” The Prince quickly took one from his aide and unrolled it, checking the distances. “Ring up the Field Marshal.”
The Prince studied the maps further as the minutes ticked, growing more and more impatient with every report of the Germans moving further between the British and French armies. “Sir! The Field Marshal sir.”
Prajhdipok pick up the field phone. “Sir I can have my corps moving in fifteen minutes to cut off the Germans. My lead units could contact them in less than an hour.”
He listened with an impatient look on his face as the Field Marshal spoke.
“But sir my troops-“ he started only to be cut off. “I must protest sir, I-“
He scowled heavily, then sighed. “Yes sir, I understand sir." Reluctantly he hung up the phone, then angrily flung it across the room. “Idiot!” We the closest reserve to the break, and what do they do? They’re bringing in the divisions from the Third Army instead of using us… stupid!”
He glanced around at his officers who watched him rage in silence. “Go out to the men, tell them to be ready. By the time the Third Army arrives, the Germans may reach us. I want us redeployed and pivoted to face their likely angle of advance. Get everyone ready.”